Look To The Stars
by Embracing the Sea
Summary: I was Zod's daughter, and every night I waited endlessly under the stars for my father to return for me, to take me away from this cruel planet that I would never belong in. Man of Steel-verse. OneShot.


**Okay, so I had a whole storyline in my head that was basically what if Zod had a daughter who was banished to Earth because of her father's crimes, and she was raised with Kal-El by the Kents? And what if she had to make the choice between her father and her "brother"? Where would her ****allegiance lie? I hope it isn't too far fetched, it's just a thought that I needed to get out in a OneShot. If you like it, a review would be lovely. ;)**

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"You have grown, Daughter of Zod."

Faora-Ul glared at me, her eyes baring into mine with venom lacing her voice.

I glared back at her.

"Your father will be pleased that you are here, Aarora."

There was no stranger thing to be called more than that.

The past twenty years that I had spent on Earth, I was called Bailey Kent, and had two humans as parents. I'd lived on a farm in Smallville, Kansas. Now I was back to being called what my father had called me all those years ago, when I was at the age of merely three on Krypton. I remembered the way he said my name, too, like he was so proud, like he couldn't love me anymore if he tried.

I'd grown immensely; I had gotten the dark hair like my father, brown eyes like my mother.

I was back to being called Aarora-Zod.

Even though I remembered, faintly, being called that name, it was unbelievably odd to me. I was the daughter of General Zod, the destroyer of Krypton, and murderer of Jor-El. I had no idea when I was growing up in Kansas; simply, I was sent away from my home planet because my father would not be able to raise and protect me. I didn't know until he came back to Earth it was because he had been imprisoned and banished to the Phantom Zone. I didn't know that I was not only sent away because my father couldn't care for me, but also because I was the daughter of a disgraced general of Krypton.

Growing up without him to teach me, to guide me, to protect me, and love me was difficult.

While Clark, or Kal-El, as I now know him, was quiet and reserved when bullies tormented and harassed him, I was entirely different. While Clark did as our "father", Jonathan Kent, told us to do and not retaliate, I could not stop myself. It was as if I was born with an aggressive instinct and a fiery, uncontrollable temper, even as a child. I guessed that I had inherited it from my father, and I was right. When I was eleven and Clark was eight, and bullies were picking on him for no reason at all, I'd punched one of them so hard he went flying to the other side of the schoolyard. Kids were in shock, as well as teachers and parents.

My "father" was livid, reminding me that, like Clark, the world was not ready for the abilities that we had.

But no matter what Jonathan had told me, I couldn't help myself. I couldn't ignore the people who were so cruel to my brother and I. I wanted to fight back, to show them who they really were messing with.

Clark had reassured me that when the time was right, we _could_ show the world. But even he seemed unsure. I was always there for him, and he for me. He was like my brother, the last two children of our kind. He was so unsure himself, but he was always willing to put on a strong face for me when I had my dark moments.

I remembered one summer night the year I turned fifteen, I'd had an argument with Martha and Jonathan at the dinner table about how I did not belong on this Earth, and I never would. I was, like Clark, an outcast. And everyone knew it. I'd gotten up from the table and stormed out the back door, sitting on the back steps and staring out to the night sky.

Twelve-year-old Clark came out a few minutes after me, sitting beside me.

"Bailey, you'll see," Clark had said, "One day, we will show them what we can do."

Two very young, lonely, and scared Kryptonians, with no one else on Earth to relate to.

All we really had was each other.

Clark had_ always _been there or me.

It was so hard as a child, knowing that you didn't belong and that you could triumph over all these humans that were so mean and to Clark and I with one measly kick. But we couldn't. It was hard knowing that all these kids thought we were freaks, that we were nothing. It was hard to know you were a far superior bloodline, but you couldn't display your power.

It was hard knowing that my father was out there somewhere, and he would understand me and tell me how to deal with the human bullies. It was hard knowing that he couldn't comfort me when I was upset about not fitting in.

I always dreamt up things he would say if I was upset.

If I had had a particularly terrible day at school, such as when Clark and I were harassed on the bus one day, I'd imagine my father was here. The great General Zod, holding me tight, telling me it was okay, and telling me that I didn't need any of these humans; that I didn't need to fit in. I was a Kryptonian, not a human.

But it was just a fantasy, a defense mechanism for a lonely child who'd been tormented and missed her father.

He couldn't be there. It was hard knowing what could've been; it was hard knowing he'd never teach me, he'd never raise me, and he'd never see me grow from the child he once knew into a young woman.

I didn't remember that much of my life on Krypton as a child before I was sent away, aside from a few faint memories of my father and I, seeing that I had only been three when I left. But I did know I wasn't of this place called Earth, and that my father was elsewhere in the stars above in the night sky. I knew that I didn't belong there, and never would. I was an outcast, always would be.

I waited endlessly for him to return for me, to take me away from this cruel planet. My "mother", Martha, always caught me laying down in the backyard or in the field, laying down with the dog and staring at the sky. I would hear the creak of the screen door open in the back of the house and she'd call my name, telling me to come inside. She'd say it was getting late, it was time to come in and take a bath and go to bed.

I would stare up, my arms lazily out to the sides, my eyes examining the stars as they stayed splattered across the black sky like they did every night. I'd sigh as I stared, and if I was alone I'd ask my father to come back, to not leave me behind.

If I didn't come in right away, Martha would walk out into the summer night into the field, give me a sad smile, and lift me up into her arms and bring me inside. After taking a bath and getting into bed, I'd look out into the sky above from my window that was right beside my bed. For years, I did this.

Every night I waited for my father to come, he never did.

I remembered his face. Even though the world saw Zod as a monster, he was still my father and capable of being kind. I remembered bits and pieces of certain memories, like a wonderful dream you have and you wake up but can't really remember. I remembered the way my father held me, the way he'd comfort me and care for me. I remembered when I said goodbye to him; a faint smile on his face when he kneeled down and hugged me, tight, one final time.

He'd told me to look to the stars.

That that's where promised he would be, and that one day, he'd be back for me.

I kept my promise by going out every night and looking up at the stars, waiting for him.

It was the last time I saw him before he was frozen and banished, which I witnessed. He had put his hand on the back of my head and pressed me to him. I'd linked my arms around his neck and hugged him back, clinging to him like I'd never let him go.

I'd been forcibly pulled off and away from him, but I'd cried, and begged to have him hold me again.

My father was everything to me.

I was born to be a warrior, just as he had. I remembered him explaining to me that our bloodline was strong.

He had finally come back. He was back not only for me, but to re-establish Krypton on Earth, to start our planet over from scratch.

I remembered when the message of You Are Not Alone flashed on every television screen in the world. I worked as a waitress in a coffee shop in Metropolis. I'd been so shocked to hear my father's voice and name that I'd dropped what I was bringing to a table, sending coffee and glass crashing to the floor.

All the nights of my childhood, staring at the stars in the night sky with hope. What I had wanted had finally came.

My father was back.

When he had seen me, and how much I had grown and what I had become, he was so proud. His daughter, twenty years later, all grown up. I had hugged him like the day that we last did before he was banished; I hugged him, tight, embracing my father like I would never let him go ever again.

Despite all the humans panicking, asking if anyone knew who this mysterious Kal-El or Zod was, I kept my mouth shut. No one would ever know that their waitress was Zod's daughter.

Now, I had to make a choice.

Being the daughter of Zod, did I take my father's side against Kal-El, or stay with the boy I had grown up with and become so close to, the boy who was always there for me?

Was blood truly thicker than water?


End file.
